Fragments of a Rainy Season

by

John Cale

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John Cale, it seems, is often at his best in a live setting. When I saw him in 1995 with the Soldier String Quartet, Cale himself on piano and occasional guitar, and pedal steel player BJ Cole filling out the ensemble, it was one of those rare transcendent occasions where every audience member seemed to be experiencing the same hypnotic glow, held in sway like the tide under a powerful lunar magnetism. A (regrettably) long out-of-print live document, "John Cale Comes Alive," captures Cale's strength on the other end of the spectrum, bashing out brutal rockers with a hot, stripped-down backing band of guitar, bass and drums. In this regard, then, it should come as no surprise that "Fragments of a Rainy Season" (1992) is an excellent set. However, as it covers his work from "Paris 1919" (1973) to "Songs For Drella" (1990), it also illuminates certain songs in Cale's catalog and in effect smooths out a lot of the rough spots in an interesting but erratic career.

Accompanying himself only on piano (and guitar on four songs), Cale reduces each song to its essence. His playing ranges from lyrical ("Style it Takes") to chaotic ("Guts," "Fear"), but the overall mood is a reflective one that suits these songs well. Most of these compositions, in fact, have never been on more effective display. "Chinese Envoy" and "Thoughtless Kind," both from the dissonant "Music for a New Society" (1982), are clear and melancholy in this setting, as are "Buffalo Ballet" and "I Keep a Close Watch." The three songs from the uneven, orchestrated "Falklands Suite" are given a much more forthright interpretation, with "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night" coming out as one of those rare cases of a poem set to music without being trivialized. Cale's famous spooky deconstruction of "Heartbreak Hotel," carried along mostly by a slow, repetitive piano figure, shows up as well; his previous versions are fine, but this one squeaks by as the winner. The closer, Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah," also trumps the studio version that appeared on the Cohen tribute, "I'm Your Fan." The previous recording seemed rushed, but here Cale takes his time with the transcendently mournful lyrics, his voice at points virtually cello-like in its resonance.

Simply put, "Fragments" provides a consistency and depth that, as a whole, few of Cale's studio albums do. He has done himself as well as his fans a great service, and for those who have yet to discover Cale, this is arguably the place to start. Choosing between this one and the lush "Paris 1919" (1973) requires a coin toss, but anyone interested in the searching, melodic side of this man's very unique work should probably own them both.

John Cale is a classic. John Cale is important. He was in the Velvet Underground for g-ds sake! His solo work is usually very impressive, not to mention a great deal more adventurous then VU or Lou Reed (God bless Lou, I love him too!)

But this album, I want to like it, I really do, but I just can't. This album evokes roots of classical piano-through the filter of an Elton John musical. Oh, yes, at timestamp 2:20 in "Paris 1919" there are two, yes count them, two measures of arpeggio, so let's reference Philip Glass here too. The whole album is just banging on the piano-seriously, just playing choppy chords, and every song sounds alike! I thought my CD Player was stuck in the dreaded Repeat-1 setting. (Dear Marantz: Why would anyone want such a button on a CD player?)

That said, "Fear (Is a Man's Best Friend)" comes across with a certain sincerity, and it stands up enough to make me want to bother to see what song it was. Especially at 2:29, and again at 3:39 when he starts "abstracting" like Gérard Depardieu in "Green Card" (intro to the poem-song about the trees, "will you translate madam?")

There is one glimmer of hope on this dreadful high school musical. Hallelujah! Hooray! Yippee! No, seriously, "Hallelujah", as performed on this record, is absolutely splendid. This has to be the best, or at least my favorite cover of the famous L. Cohen song I have ever heard. (Sorry k.d., your live performance is awesome, too)

"Hallelujah" is perhaps the reason to buy this record. What I'm curious is why John gives this song so much respect and emotion that he didn't give to his own songs.

(PS, The guitar tracks are more tolerable, but, just like the piano, all chords, and little actually "playing")